


Back To Good

by charmed310



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:46:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3439268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmed310/pseuds/charmed310
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry had chosen this life long before he’d chosen to be with Draco, and Draco… Well, it wasn’t fair to him to be expected to sit around and just hope for the best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back To Good

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Summer Flu](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/100310) by chibitoaster. 



Though attending children’s parties would never be his favourite pastime, Draco Malfoy couldn’t deny that Andromeda had outdone herself with Teddy’s. Ponies and goats whinnied and bleated from the Petting Zoo section; children screamed and laughed on the Bouncy Castle while others stuffed their little cheeks with cakes, crisps and sweets of every colour at the snack table.

Draco had been additionally reluctant to attend as he was trying to avoid his (possibly) former boyfriend, who just happened to be Teddy’s godfather. It would be so like Harry not to show up, however. He regularly missed dates and events, ever-distracted on his quest to rid the magical world of Dark magic. 

They’d had a huge fight moments before Harry’s departure several days earlier and hadn’t spoken since. Draco just had to assume, as usual, that he was alive. 

As part of a select group of wizards who were placed in a global Control of Magical Creatures league, Harry travelled to dangerous locales and faced death almost every week of life. He had already been to Russia and back six days before, and the week before that had been Greece. He’d come home for a mere two days between each trip, full of stories and jokes about his narrow escapes from malaclaws and manticores, and everyone had wanted a piece of him. 

Draco had wanted all of him. He’d wanted to fill up the bathtub with hot, soapy water and lead Harry into it. He’d wanted to wash his hair and scrub the grime from his skin, then towel him dry and take him to bed. He’d wanted to kiss Harry from head to toe, paying careful attention to each new bruise and cut Harry hadn’t even felt. He’d wanted to fall asleep with Harry wrapped safely in his arms.

But that never happened. Instead, he waited while Harry attended Magical Security meetings with the Minister. He waited while Harry took a lightning fast shower, dressing while still wet, so they could make it in time for Ron and Hermione’s dinner invitation. He listened while Harry told his friends about his latest conquest deep in a faraway forest. He forced himself to laugh when the others did. 

When they eventually got home, Harry full of promises to give Draco the best night of his life he’d instead fallen into a deep sixteen-hour sleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

‘I’ll be home tonight,’ Harry had said sincerely on his way out the door again the next day, off to another meeting.

Then, Tasmania had come up. 

Draco had been all ready for the _one_ night at home with Harry he’d been promised. He’d had the house cleaned, and sheets changed on their bed. He had even cooked dinner by himself. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of Harry’s jeans, ready to meet him with a drink and a shag, when Harry Apparated into the living room where Draco sat.

‘Hi, I’m sorry but I can’t stick around. Have to meet a Portkey in half an hour.’

Draco stared silently at Harry’s back as he retreated up the stairs for a few moments before rage consumed him and he followed.

‘What the _actual_ fuck, Harry?’

‘I got a really urgent call. Big Dementor problem over there, and talk of some other menace to the village I’m going to.’

‘Are you really trying to tell me that there are no other bloody wizards capable of casting a Patronus Charm? Why is it always you?’

‘Everyone else is tied up with other commitments. I can’t say no when I haven’t actually got anything else going on. It’s only for a few days.’

Draco snapped. 

‘ _You don’t have anything else going on?_ Are you fucking joking? You keep risking your life all the time, and for what? Is your life here not good enough for you? Am I not good enough?’

‘When have I ever said that?’ Harry had howled. ‘I fucking love you, all right? I come back because of you! I leave because it’s my job!’

‘Then get a different job! One that doesn’t make me wonder if you’re dead or alive if you don’t show up for a fucking dinner party! I hate this, Harry! I hate not knowing where you are, or what trouble you’ve got yourself into. I notice _all_ of your scars, you know, not just the one.’

When Harry remained stubbornly silent, Draco turned away from him. ‘Just go. I’m done.’

Most of him had hoped that Harry would reach out to him and turn him right back around and kiss him on and on, whispering apologies over his lips, and vow not to leave again.

The rest of him knew without question what would actually happen, and sure enough, Harry’s soft sigh was followed by the pop of Disapparition, and when Draco turned round again, the foyer was empty. 

‘Fuck.’ 

Draco sat down on the sofa in the living room, his head in his hands, willing himself not to cry. He wouldn’t allow Harry to do this to him. He was stronger than that. Instead, he’d curled up into a ball on the soft cushions and closed his eyes, wondering: should he stay and wait for Harry to come back as usual? He was so, so tired of _waiting_. If he came back, would Harry apologise? Should he, Draco, apologise?

But Draco knew deep down that neither of them had much to apologise for. Harry had chosen this life long before he’d chosen to be with Draco, and Draco… Well, it wasn’t fair to him to be expected to sit around and just hope for the best.

Draco sighed and idly fingered the old and worn check blanket beneath his head and smiled in spite of himself. He remembered once, after a gruelling trip to Thailand, Harry had flopped down on this sofa, warm and damp from the bath, and asked quite simply to be read to. Draco had been confused, but had agreed. Harry had chosen one of Teddy’s favourite books, _The Wonderful Wizard of Oz_ which always made Draco laugh, not just because of the title, but the Cowardly Lion seemed so anti-Gryffindor. 

Darkness and warmth enveloped them with only Draco’s wandlight illuminating the old and battered pages. Harry lay with his head in Draco’s lap, covered in the old throw blanket while Draco read softly to him.

‘You must stop making jokes about this. Teddy’s not going to want to be a Gryffindor if he hears you,’ Harry had grumbled sleepily when Draco paused to laugh at how truly feeble the Lion was.

‘I didn’t write the book! I’m just telling it like it is,’ Draco shot back, adjusting the reading glasses on his nose.

‘Oh, shut up,’ Harry muttered, half a smile on his face.

Draco had just begun a new chapter when he heard Harry’s soft snores from his lap. He smiled, and let Harry sleep on, his fingers carding soothingly through Harry’s thick hair, while he finished reading. 

He wondered if Harry remembered it with as much fondness as Draco did.

When thinking back on (possible) ex-boyfriends, Draco was inevitably reminded of the times they shared before getting together. 

For him and Harry, the history was long and colourful, but it had been a lot of fun before the leap into their relationship had been taken.

His fondest memories were of meeting Harry for lunch at a pub called the Black Sheep which served the _best_ steak and ale pies, which happened to be Draco’s guilty pleasure. 

The first time he knew he was absolutely hyperaware of Harry was at the pub. Harry was a few minutes late, and as Draco always chose to sit with his back to the room (all the better to go unnoticed while inhaling his steak and ale), he hadn’t seen Harry approach. But he’d smelt him. Instantly Draco knew, from the tiny prickle at the back of his neck, accompanied by the acrid scent of magic and adrenaline mixed with the familiar cologne, that Harry was in the room.

Harry had sat down opposite him, smiling in that crooked affable way he found so endearing, but Draco could see the glittering eyes and pale complexion of a _very_ tired human being.

‘Would you prefer to get take-away instead?’ Draco had asked, concerned that Harry might fall asleep in his steak and ale.

‘No, I’ll be fine. Took fifteen mils of George's, shall we say 'enhanced' Pepper-Up. I think I can smell sounds at this stage.'

Draco couldn't help but laugh. 'What's the recommended dosage?'

'For me? Probably about five,' Harry said. He took a cursory glance at the menu on the table before looking back at Draco. ‘Besides, I wanted to see you.’

Draco smirked. ‘Oh yeah? What for?’

‘Can’t a bloke just want to see his mate? It’s been at least ten days!’

Draco rolled his eyes. ‘I’m sure you’ve got some other agenda behind it, like asking me to hunt Lethifolds or something else repulsive with you.’

Harry laughed and their server approached the table.

‘All right, darling? We’ll have two pints of Guinness and two steak and ales, made with extra love,’ Harry said, giving her a wink.

Draco loved it when Harry flirted with women. He did it for laughs of course, but Draco liked to see the cheeky grin and accompanying wink that sent the ladies wild.

With men, however, it was completely different, and often the source of his least fond memories of pre-him and Harry.

When Harry flirted, or rather went on the pull, there was a fire and intensity in his gaze that Draco thought would turn him into a hot puddle of lust if he were ever on the receiving end. He’d seen it multiple times when Harry had dragged him kicking and screaming out to a club and would invariably meet some young stud to take home. Draco learnt to read that look on Harry’s face very quickly, and would leave immediately when Harry zeroed in on a man.

Sometimes, however (much to Draco’s amusement), Harry Potter was denied and would follow Draco quickly to the exit of wherever they happened to be and sheepishly suggest they get something to eat.

Those were the times Draco loved best. They weren’t frequent, but he simply adored it when Harry was a bit drunk and spent hours talking and making Draco laugh. 

Eventually, Harry’s club invitations lessened and instead Draco was asked for quiet dinners for two at Harry’s house after which Harry would pop a Muggle film into his viewing contraption (utter magic as far as Draco was concerned) and while away their weekends together. 

It was not long after that when Draco began to feel the burn of Harry’s eyes on him. The intensity was truly mind-melting, and it was all Draco could do not to get lost in it. He and Harry were _friends_.

Then, one evening on their way back to Harry’s after picking up take-away curry, Harry stopped him in the middle of the crowded pavement, leaned in and kissed him.

Surprised, Draco hadn’t responded immediately, but when Harry placed a hand behind his neck and pulled him in closer, he let himself go.

‘I’m sorry,’ Harry said to him after. ‘I probably should have asked first, but I’m rather tired of dancing around the fact that I’m falling for you.’

Draco didn’t have words. He just kissed Harry again and again.

Over the last three years, Harry had continued to surprise Draco in ways that left him in a puddle of emotion at Harry’s feet. 

One moment he was off in the Siberian Mountains, the next he was bursting through the door, tearing off his clothing and dragging Draco to bed. Then he was off again. Days would go by without word, and Harry would whirl right back in the door, exhilarated and exhausted, a bit bruised and battered, but always with his arms open for Draco to fall into.

Until he left without notice one too many times. Until Draco pushed him away.

:-:

Harry crouched down behind a tree and pointed his wand through the divide of his Invisibility Cloak, his breath slow, deep and even. With a slashing movement, a burst of orange light erupted from the end of his wand and struck the Zingo, an ugly, menacing-looking cross between a boar and a buffalo, who let out a startled shriek. It was dead before it even hit the ground.

Grinning, Harry uncovered himself and wiped away the sweat that had made it past his brows and into his eyes. It was bloody fucking hot in the rainforest; he was almost looking forward to the cold and damp first world-ness of England after his week abroad in Tasmania. He tucked the Cloak away in one of the many hidden pockets in his robes and picked his way over to the body. The old witch doctor in the village, an avid creature-collector, would be very pleased with a Zingo head. 

Created by Dark wizards a century before as violent guardians of some old temples, Zingos had been left to their own devices upon the demise of their creators. Though they lived deep in the forest most of the time and were rarely seen, they could be lethal when exposed to human habitation.

When Harry reached the spot where the Zingo lay, his heart dropped. 'Ah, fuck,' he muttered.

It was a juvenile. 

Experience had taught him that where there were babies, there would be parents. He needed to get out of there fast. The Zingos had an Apparition-like power and would probably take immense animal pride in ripping him to shreds and stamping his remains into the dirt. He loathed wizard-made creatures. Next time, he’d have to remember to cast a Silencing Spell before attacking. 

Harry checked his watch and bit his lip. His Portkey was due to take him back to London in just over an hour, giving him very little time to finish the job and be home in time for Teddy’s birthday party, which was about to begin. He couldn’t miss it again or Andromeda would murder him. His stomach twisted; so would Draco, for that matter - if he hadn’t left Harry by now.

His head snapped up as a loud rumble echoed in the valley where Harry stood and he could hear the heavy thuds signalling the creatures’ arrival. Well, at least they weren’t taking their time.

Harry turned slowly and grimaced.

Four adults, at least three times the size of the juvenile were looming out of the bushes. Their teeth snapped menacingly as they closed in around him, lowering their snouts to display their pointed tusks. 

Harry backed away very carefully, provoking a particularly fierce growl from one of the adults as he stepped over the young one, casting a quick spell to sever its head. The Zingo in front began to dig its front hooves into the dirt like an angry bull getting ready to charge.

 _Oh, shit._ Harry took a deep breath as his heart rate sped up, and he tightened his grip on his wand. 

With a snarl, the four Zingos leapt towards him as one. Harry waited, body prepared for instant motion, until they were almost on top of him before spinning on the spot and Disapparating to the tree he had hidden behind earlier. 

Harry waved his wand in a huge circle before swishing and flicking at the fling of Zingos. They rose into the air, their legs flailing as they continued to snarl and snap at him. They really were vile creatures.

‘Ha-ha!’ Harry said. He ran over to the dead Zingo and picked up the head and waved it at them. ‘Better luck next time! Oh, but there won’t be a next time for you lot, will there?’

Harry dropped the spell and the four adult Zingos fell to the forest floor like so many boulders. Barely a heartbeat later, Harry slashed his wand again and the bright orange light of the spell lit up the forest clearing as if by the sun, forcing him to take cover behind his tree again. It wouldn’t have been the first time the force of his own magic knocked him on his arse.

When the dust had settled and the residual magic shimmered away into stillness, Harry collected the four new heads and shrunk them down to something he could stick into a pocket. His old witch doctor friend would be right pleased with the extras. 

Looking around once more at the quiet and empty forest, Harry grinned again and Disapparated.

:-:

Draco sat alone at the grown-up’s table at Teddy’s birthday party, swigging neat vodka from his teacup, unchanged and unmoving. The laughter and chat from the mums and dads who stood nearby meaningless noise until one of the mums said, ‘Isn’t that Harry Potter?’

Draco’s ears pricked and nervousness curled in his belly as he looked round at the back gate where the lady who had spoken was staring. 

Harry was the picture of casual grace, carrying a large wrapped box and dressed in a pair of jeans and a blue and white striped jumper. Jealousy stabbed at Draco that Harry always seemed to be so comfortable anywhere he went, while Draco was often debilitated by self-consciousness. Today he’d taken a full hour to choose his outfit, littering the bed with clothes before he finally satisfied himself and dressed in all black. Safe. Neat. Normal.

Boring.

His heart fluttered and he took another sip of drink to steady his nerves as Harry entered the property, smiling and waving hello to everyone, exchanging hugs with Hermione and Ginny who were watching the younger children. They’d all been perfectly pleasant to him, Harry’s friends, but Hermione was a sharp witch, and he’d noticed her giving him extra-long concerned looks from across the garden, which he’d ignored.

Draco drained his teacup of vodka as he watched Harry animatedly chat to his friends, before turning his attention to the corner of the garden, where a group of young boys were having the time of their lives in the Bouncy Castle. 

Draco smiled as one of the boys extricated himself from the Castle, his hair changing smoothly from a soft light brown to brilliant green as it always did when he saw Harry.

‘Harry! You came!’ he cried.

‘Happy Birthday!’ Harry opened his arms and Teddy Lupin ran straight into them, knocking Harry backwards onto the grass with the force. 

Draco couldn’t help but chortle out loud when all the other children decided that jumping on Harry was preferable to the Bouncy Castle. Harry looked so happy to be rolling around in the grass with ten screaming seven year-olds that even Draco’s mood brightened, though he would admit that only to himself.

‘Ah, Harry’s here,’ said a pleased voice from behind him. 

Draco turned to see his aunt Andromeda, a big birthday cake balanced on the tip of her wand, smiling at the activity.

‘Wasn’t sure he’d make it. Where was he this time?’

‘Tasmania,’ Draco replied automatically, and then blushed when his aunt gave him her most infuriating knowing smile. 

He hadn’t told anyone about the fight, but he always suspected Andromeda of knowing much more than she let on about his and Harry’s relationship - or lack thereof at the moment.

‘Aren’t you going to tell him hello? I expect he’s been gone a long time,’ Andromeda said.

‘Looks a bit occupied. Need the loo,’ Draco mumbled, and shuffled away quickly into the house.

This was harder than he’d thought it would be. Maybe he shouldn’t have come. There was plenty of work for him to get to himself; work that required only his wand and methodical thought. Draco was currently working on cataloguing the library at his family home. It was an organisational nightmare which he entrusted to no one else, as so many of the books there were priceless. 

Yes, Draco thought, what he needed was a good distraction. Maybe he’d chance going home to Harry another day - if he hadn’t gone on to the next bloody country by then.

Draco sighed and wandered aimlessly through the house. 

_Stop being so fucking stupid…_

:-:

‘Happy Birthday, dear Teddy, Happy Birthday to you!’ Harry sang along with his friends, family and Teddy’s guests, grinning as his godson blew out the eight crackling candles on his cake, all the while breathing a silent sigh of relief.

He had made it by the skin of his teeth. The Portkey was about to leave without him, and he experienced a painful memory of a certain graveyard many years ago as he’d Summoned it to him. He’d begun to think that maybe Draco was right and he needed a break. He looked round for what felt like the hundredth time, but couldn’t find the tall, blond figure anywhere.

Harry had hoped he would catch Draco at home and that they might try to mend things before coming, but he’d been so late, he’d barely had time to brush his teeth and change. Draco had been nowhere in sight, but at least he’d been there, if the clothing strewn across the bed and the warm tang of his preferred scent lingering in the bathroom were any indication. Harry had been grateful to find that Draco hadn’t walked out, though he’d not have blamed him at all if he had.

‘Cake, darling?’ Andromeda said from beside him, offering a large slice of chocolate cake on a paper plate featuring the latest popular children’s character in bright colours.

‘Er, no, thanks. Have you seen Draco? I thought he’d be here.’ 

Andromeda just smiled at him in that all-knowing way she had. ‘Take the cake, Harry. You might enjoy it more sitting up in the attic. And take another fork, won’t you?’

Harry flushed and smiled sheepishly. ‘He told you, did he?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. I hope you like it, and don’t rush. Teddy’s more than occupied for the time being.’

Harry smiled and accepted the proffered second fork. ‘Thanks, Andromeda.’

As Harry fought his way through the throng of kids clamouring for multiple slices of cake, he began thinking of what he was going to say to Draco when he found him, all alone in the attic save for the bottle of Beluga vodka at his feet.

_Draco, I hate that you don’t understand why I like my job. Just because yours is non-existent. And crap._

No, that was awful. He was trying to apologise for their fight, not start it all over again.

 _Draco, I’m really sorry we left it the way we did. I should have stayed to work it out, but the Portkey was about to leave and I_ had _to go._

Harry climbed the steps to the attic. _Better, but you could have gotten another Portkey if necessary, and he’ll definitely point that out._

He paused outside the closed door and took a deep breath. He knew when he and Draco got together that life with him would never be simple or always pleasant. It was a fact of life that Harry and Draco would not see eye-to-eye and the results would be, at best, explosive. He wished he could take back some of the things he’d said and done.

Harry pushed open the heavy wooden door into the brightly lit attic space. He’d always liked it up there, with its large French windows from which hung boxes of spring flowers, the worn floorboards and comfortable old furniture overrun by so many of Teddy’s toys and games.

Draco stood near the window looking down on the party in the garden below, and Harry smiled to see the bottle of vodka beside a teacup on the sill.

‘Hello,’ he said, closing the door behind him. ‘Andromeda sent cake.’

‘I’m not staying. Just came up for a bit of quiet before I say goodbye,’ Draco said quickly, turning around but not meeting Harry’s eyes.

Harry put the cake down and reached out for Draco’s arm. ‘Wait.’

‘Harry, I really don’t--’

‘Draco, stop. I came to find you to apologise. I hoped I’d see you at home.’

‘I’ve been sleeping at the Manor. I had to get more clothes for today.’

‘I saw that,’ Harry said, trying, and failing, to hide a smile. ‘You look awful, by the way.’

‘Yeah?’ Draco snarled. ‘And you look fucking spectacular as usual. Let me go.’

‘Draco, I’m sorry! I was trying to make light of it and I shouldn’t have. Please, let’s just talk. I--’

‘No. I’m finished speaking to you about this. There’s nothing for you to apologise for, Harry. You chose your life long before I came along, and you’ll continue with it long after I’m gone, so let’s just let it die a natural death, shall we? I don’t want to continue wondering where you are, or whether you’re dead or alive.’

Annoyed, Harry laughed humourlessly. ‘What, you think you’ll stop caring just because we’re broken up? Love doesn’t work like that.’

‘Love doesn’t work like _this_ either!’ Draco’s voice cracked and Harry could see tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sick of being your second best, Harry. Your work is your love, not me. I can’t feel like this anymore, but I’m not going to make you choose. The decision is mine.’

Harry’s eyes prickled and stung and he could feel his own tears begin to fall. ‘Draco, don’t.’

‘I have to,’ Draco whispered. ‘I want to love all of you, not just what you give me.’

Harry didn’t stop him when he tried to leave this time and, when the door to the attic closed behind Draco, he sat down shakily on the big armchair. 

_What have I done?_

He caught sight of the chocolate cake he had put down on Teddy’s drawing table with the two forks stuck in, just waiting to be eaten, and sent it flying straight across the room before curling up in the chair and letting his tears fall freely.

:-:

‘I won’t let you choose.’

Harry’s voice startled Draco out of his reverie. He’d been packing his clothes up when he’d come across a pile of Harry’s t-shirts hidden under some of his. They weren’t anything special, but Draco had held one to his nose and wondered what the fuck he was doing by leaving Harry. 

Thinking back on his argument, it had sounded so selfish. Was it that much of a hardship to miss Harry? Because he _knew_ that when he came back, it would be only to Draco. Was it not at least a little bit fulfilling to have such a brave man on his arm?

Feeling ill, and wondering whether he ought to go back to Andromeda’s and find Harry again, but fearing the crippling feeling of shame, Draco sat down on the bed, surrounded by Harry’s t-shirts, his smell and their memories.

That was how Harry found him.

‘W-what?’ Draco said dumbly.

‘ _I’m_ making the choice,’ Harry said, his gaze burning through Draco’s resolve. ‘I choose you.’

With that, he crossed the room and took Draco’s face in his hands and kissed him, hot and desperate. 

From there, Draco knew, there was no turning back.

Within seconds it seemed, Harry had him lying naked and hard on the bed while his breathy apologies ghosted over Draco’s skin.

He prepared Draco for sex slowly, almost reverently, his fingers twisting and sliding in and out until Draco was a shaking, babbling mess. Then, Harry got to his knees and lifted Draco’s legs, his hands behind his knees, and spread him open.

‘God, you’re so fucking gorgeous,’ Harry muttered.

Draco moaned wantonly when Harry pressed his prick into him; it burned, just like his eyes which never left Draco’s face. 

He fucked Draco slowly at first, leaning forward to kiss him over and over again, moaning his pleasure in his ear, caressing his face. He took Draco’s cock in his hand, rubbing and stroking it in long, full movements until Draco’s eyes fell closed at the lust that curled in his belly. His cock twitched in Harry’s grip and his hips jerked up to meet each thrust, quickening their pace.

‘Yes,’ Harry said breathlessly, pushing in harder. ‘Come for me, love. You’re so close.’

Harry hissed and rolled his hips, and Draco felt his world explode and melt all at the same time as he came in hot bursts over Harry’s chest. Harry held his breath and thrust once, twice more before Draco felt the throbbing inside of him, and he smiled as Harry fell to stillness, resting his head over Draco’s heart.

:-: 

As their breathing slowed and the sweat cooled, Harry detached himself from Draco long enough to pull the bedclothes over them for warmth.

‘I’m sorry I never thought about how you might feel when I don’t show up,’ Harry said. ‘It didn’t occur to me what it might mean to you.’

Draco was quiet as he smoothed Harry’s hair back from his forehead, then Harry felt him take in a breath. 

‘I’m sorry I was so selfish. I don’t want you to give up your job. I just… I need for you to remember that you have people here who need you too.’

Harry sighed and nodded. ‘I need you all too.’

‘I hope Teddy had a good birthday. I couldn’t even say goodbye.’

‘We’ll have him spend the night tomorrow. It’s been a very long time since we’ve read that Wizard of Oz book,’ Draco said.

Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to Draco’s chest. ‘We can read it as long as you promise to be nice to the Lion.’

Draco laughed. ‘I’m always nice to that goddamn Lion.’

Fin.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Disclaimer:** All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. The artwork this story is inspired by belongs to Raitala.
> 
> Comments are very welcome. You may leave them here or over at [Livejournal](http://hd-remix.livejournal.com/79918.html).


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